


walkin' in time

by heartjoongs (krucxa)



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, Angst, Betrayal, M/M, eden's here too, hero in training! hwa, lots of idol cameos?, no beta we die like men, off-screen violence, seonghwa just wants to do the right thing, the ateez vigilante fic that made me feel as if im cheating on the superhero fic, theres gonna be fluff in 2nd chapter
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2019-11-11
Packaged: 2021-01-29 00:00:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21400804
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/krucxa/pseuds/heartjoongs
Summary: Seonghwa was only eighteen years old when he discovered he could manipulate time.
Relationships: Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Comments: 13
Kudos: 65





	walkin' in time

**Author's Note:**

> so!! hi! i'm back with an ateez fic! i hope y'all will like this  
i've... actually started writing this a long time ago but only finished it just now lmao  
just a heads up, there's no actual violence in the fic but there are mentions of a shooting! also theres a burning building? but nothing more than that  
i didnt proofread this yet btw so if there are any typos or mistakes.. please go easy on me hfjsfs

play. ►

"Eden, wait—" Seonghwa's voice sounds strangled even to his own ears. His hand flies up to fiddle with the tacky mask he's wearing, hesitantly pulling it back into place. He's not sure why his fingers are shaking, or why his chest feels funny all of sudden, so he chooses to ignore it, "Eden, why does it feel like you're lying to me?"

It hurts to say these words, to direct such a question at the one person he's gotten so close to in the past two years. The one that he's trained with, spent countless nights learning the older's technique and very own tricks — his mentor. The man that's standing with his back facing him now, not even meeting his eye, as if too ashamed to do so.

And as much as the question leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, it's not something he can keep silent about, not anymore.

The hero keeps stubbornly quiet, though, even as his calm facade seems to shatter more with every passing second.

"Eden," Seonghwa tries again, embarrassed at how pathetic he sounds, voice cracking when he speaks, "you're not telling me the whole truth."

He sees the way Eden's shoulders tense, the muscles of his back flexing before he heaves a sigh deep enough to slump his entire posture, "Seonghwa, trust me," he finally turns his head to the side, meeting his gaze only for a second before his eyes screwed shut, "I've told you everything I know."

"Did you?"

He's not sure what's worse; the fact that no matter how much he wants to, he just can't bring himself to believe Eden's words — or the fact that Eden turns to clutch at his arm, gaze dropped to the floor, leaving the question unanswered.

Again, Seonghwa opens his mouth to speak; his throat feels tight, but he's made up his mind. He wants to hear Eden's reply, he wants his mentor to explain, really, anything, "did you, Eden?"

The silence hangs heavy between them, dull and uncomfortable — Seonghwa's pretty sure he's a second away from losing it.

"Please," he tries again, watching as the older curls in on himself even more, still dead set on keeping his focus as far away from Seonghwa as he possibly can. It's strange, seeing the person he's always idolized, looking so... guilty. Almost apologetic, but not quite. Wouldn't he answer Seonghwa's questions, the answer Seonghwa seeks, the one he _needs_, if he truly felt sorry?

Instead, he simply turns away. _Like a coward_, Seonghwa's mind supplies, even though he can't bring himself to actually say that out loud.

He waits for another beat, another few seconds, another minute, but his prying remains unanswered. Eventually, he gives up.

The world is spinning around him, but his voice is surprisingly steady when he mutters, "how disappointing."

Because that's what it is. Disappointing. Disappointing, how such a thing he's poured his all into turned out this way. Disappointing, how much he's trusted, despite the knowledge that it all came too easily, too smoothly. He ignored it all, his mind warning him how impossible it seemed. Too good to be true. And that, it was. No wonder it felt fake — Seonghwa was just too stubborn to admit it, at first.

Now, he can't take it anymore. He's tired, and too naive for his own good.

So he slips off his mask, lets it fall to the ground. Wordless, he makes his way out, awfully aware as he leaves his hero — or more like, sidekick — identity behind, walking towards his, now uncertain, future.

pause. rewind. ↺

The thing is, Seonghwa has always wanted to be a hero. It's kind of hard not to when everything around seems to be about them.

At first, it was just a childish idea, back when he was still a kid and had to tip his head up to watch, amazed, as a masked figure dashed across the rooftops. But then, the faint hope never really left him, even if he knew it was unrealistic to daydream about this kind of life.

Until suddenly it wasn't.

It's kind of ironic, he thinks, how life-changing situations seem to wait for the most unexpected times. A weekend spent inside the house, a daily task that gets more boring with every passing day, a slow morning that starts with opening one's eyes and realizing how much you just want to go back to sleep. As if the whole thing's planned.

It's one of these days in Seonghwa's life that it happened.

Now, Seonghwa was never a diligent student. No that he never tried to. The problem is, he could never bring himself to fully focus on one thing only, his imagination running wild in the middle of class, so much that teachers having to snap him back to the lecture would be a daily occurrence. So it wasn't a surprise that there he was, zoning out at the back of the class, subconsciously playing with the pen in his hand until it managed to slip out from his grasp.

What wasn't as usual, was how when he leaned down to pick it up, he realized one thing.

The pen hadn't touched the ground.

The fact really hadn't sunk in until a few seconds passed. He blinked, once, then a second time, harder, keeping his eyes shut for longer than necessary before opening them again. But nothing changed, the image of the pen stuck in the air a few inches above the floor burned into the back of his mind up to this day.

Hesitant, he retracted his hand, lifting his head up to look around the classroom, and his breath hitched.

Everything seemed to have come to a stop. The teacher stood with her hand reached out, her face seemingly stuck in a permanent scowl. The student sitting on his right leaned back, his chair tipped backwards, a second away from falling. The steam from a girl's coffee hung above the cup, unmoving. Even the clock paused counting the seconds that passed by — did they? — and Seonghwa stood up from his desk, gaping at the scene before him.

It didn't seem real, no. It couldn't be. But there was no other explanation as to why everything seemed to halt.

It couldn't have lasted for more than a minute, but it felt like years have passed before everything returned to normal. The pen cluttered to the ground, the student next to Seonghwa waved his hands around before he regained his balance, the steam disappeared with a gust of wind. He watched it all happen, too stunned to worry about how dense he must look, until the teacher's voice snapped him back to reality.

"Mister Park, would you care to explain what you think you're doing?"

He doesn't remember anymore, his reply, his classmates' reaction, nothing besides the trace of shock that remained at the back of his mind as he lowered himself to his seat again. And the day continued on, just as simple as all the others. But Seonghwa knew better. He knew this was just the beginning.

Seonghwa was only eighteen years old when he discovered he could manipulate time.

next. ►I

One would usually think that getting a hero to accept to mentor you would be an overwhelmingly difficult task. Not in this case, though.

Seonghwa has always been a danger magnet; it's common knowledge. Usually it hasn't been anything worse than a twisted ankle or broken bone, unlike this time. This time, it was something much more serious.

A shooting.

It all happened so fast. If he's being honest, Seonghwa repressed that memory a long time ago. It's the only way of dealing with trauma he knows.

Now, all he can remember is — after ten tense minutes spent trying to hide — Changmin sprawled on the ground, the sound of a firing gun and his own scream. Rushed footsteps, movement right before his eyes and a masked figure sweeping the boy off the ground.

But no sound of a bullet hitting the ground followed.

He didn't even realize it — it's not the easiest thing, noticing the _lack_ of something, after all. Mass hysteria didn't help either. He didn't think about it after the threat was neutralized, didn't bring it up while the students present were questioned. He practically forgot about it by the time he was heading home.

The day's events were too much to remember a detail like a missing bullet.

That is, until on his way back a hand grabbed his arm and dragged him to a narrow alleyway. There was no time to react; not that it would change anything in the first place. The sun has already set long ago, the streets empty except for an occasional cat or two, and no one would hear his cries for help if he tried. But instead of whatever Seonghwa was expecting, when he turned to face the culprit — even in the dark, he could easily recognize the masked figure from this morning.

Because how could he not?

Heroes are, well, exactly that. Heroes. They're known, famous even, for their individual good deeds. Almost like idols, except them fighting crime is what gets every single one of them fans. And Seonghwa has always idolized heroes.

So before the man has the time to say anything, a meek, "Eden?" slips past his lips. It's all due to shock, really. He didn't even think it through, only realized he's said the Hero's alias out loud when the other took a step back, seemingly as surprised as Seonghwa himself. As if he wasn't the one to drag Seonghwa here. Besides, he has no right to act so surprised — he's one of the better known heroes. It shouldn't be shocking that a random student like Seonghwa would know of him, right?

But the shock didn't last long, and the stare Eden's giving him is long, cautious, as if checking for any possible threat, before he finally said, "how did you do it, kid?"

Do _what_? No, the irritating part is, he's not a kid. He would feel offended, probably, if it were any other person. But it's Eden. A hero. Their hero. _Seonghwa's_ hero.

"I have… _no_ idea what you're talking about," is what he ended up replying. Just as careful as the older. He inched back, looking Eden over now that he's actually seeing a hero in flesh, right in front of him. It almost feels like a dream.

"I mean, the bullet. This morning," but it still hasn't clicked, so he clarified further, "It froze in place. You've stopped it — How?"

It's only then that Seonghwa finally recalled it, the missing bullet. It seemed so insignificant at the time, he couldn't understand how Eden picked up on it. Seonghwa didn't even think he's done anything, besides screaming, maybe.

"I don't know."

It's the truth. If anything, he's probably the least probable to know. He's sure Eden couldn't be more confused than Seonghwa already is. But then, "how do you know it was me?"

Now, Seonghwa couldn't see his face under the mask, so he could only guess what the older's expression looked like, but what he _did_ know, was that Eden tilted his head a bit, as if smug, but not quite there yet, "You could say... I have my ways."

Great. Amazing. Just fantastic. He's not going to get the answer, is he?

He had already opened his mouth to ask, _so what now?_, but Eden cut him off — as if he already knew what Seonghwa was going to say, "okay, kid, you have two options now. You either figure out your power and contact me before any villain tries to recruit you, or you ignore this and act as if nothing happened," as if Seonghwa could ever ignore it. He's always wanted to be a hero, through his childhood, his entire life, up to now. It feels insulting, to even consider that an option.

He hasn't even noticed it when Eden turned around, but then the Hero's voice filled the alley again. He didn't even bother turning around, "either way, you know where to find me."

And just like that, he walked off, leaving Seonghwa to just stand there and watch as Eden's back disappears in the shadows. How cool.

Wait. Wait, wait, wait. What did he say?

Was he joking? Pulling Seonghwa's leg? What did he mean, Seonghwa knows? That's ridiculous, no. No he doesn't. Seonghwa has no fucking clue where to find Eden. He can't even ask anymore, because he's spent too much time staring, dumbfounded, into the empty alleyway. Too busy acting starstruck— God, he must've come off like an idiot. Seems like Seonghwa isn't as lucky as he first thought.

Eyes glued to the shadows of the alley, he slowly releases a breath, noting how it appears in front of his face in a white puff of air. Distraction.

Christ. Are all the Heroes this dramatic?

next. ►I

The clock already hit two in the morning, but Seonghwa's stubbornly sitting on the balcony outside his bedroom. It's already been a week since he's seen the hero, and his hope of meeting him again faltered with every day that passed. But, Seonghwa is determined.

Heroes are known for patrolling the city. So it gave Seonghwa an idea. The chances of meeting Eden like this are slim, if not non-existent, but it's not like Seonghwa had any other ways to communicate with Eden.

So he sat there, shivering whenever a gust of wind passed by, silently cursing himself for not bringing a blanket with himself. But he couldn't do it now, because what if Eden appeared, at the exact second Seonghwa left? His entire plan would go to waste.

It wasn't until another five minutes went by, that he finally heard faint footsteps from above.

He stilled, waiting for any sign he's been spotted, maybe for Eden to speak up. After a few seconds flew by with no reaction, he held his breath and lifted his head— just to meet the hero's cautious stare.

Sitting at the edge of the neighbouring house's roof, Eden didn't even look bothered by the height of the building, nor the terrifying drop between them. Instead, chin rested on his palm, he stared down at Seonghwa curiously. The hero had an air of authority about him, yet the way he looked at Seonghwa couldn't be described as vain. Only intrigued, if anything.

This was it. This was Seonghwa's chance.

Leaping up to a stand, he hoped his eyes showed the pure determination he felt at the moment. Open, pleading. He called out the hero's alias, as if the other's attention wasn't fully on him yet, then followed it by, "please be my mentor!"

Eden didn't audibly reply, but the moment the hero lifted his mask, Seonghwa could see his lips stretching into a satisfied smile.

next. ►I

It takes him three months of training under Eden's wing and following him around until finally the older called him to their hideout one night without any further explanation. Which, in on itself, wouldn't be so unusual if not for Eden's response to Seonghwa's confusion being a mutter of _you'll see_ before promptly hanging up.

Therefore, it would be an understatement to say Seonghwa was nervous as he stepped inside the building.

What greeted him inside though, instead of whatever Seonghwa's overthinking made him believe was waiting for him, was a smug looking Eden.

A folder safely held in the hero's hands, the man either didn't notice his presence straight away or just chose not to acknowledge it yet. Seonghwa's gotten used to seeing him without the mask on, a privilege he'd never even thought he'd get before, and just as he's expected, the mask in question laid abandoned on a nearby counter. Seonghwa spared it a glance, then turned back to Eden, clearing his throat to announce his presence.

The older glanced over his shoulder, only turning around to face him after their eyes met. The corner of his lips tilted upwards, right before speaking up, "oh, you're here, great. I have some news for you."

Unsure how to react, Seonghwa only hummed in reply, prompting Eden to carry on.

"Your first solo mission! Or, more like, a trial, honestly," he shrugged, gesturing vaguely at the folder in his hands, "don't worry, there's no way you're gonna fuck it up. You'll just have to sneak in, get a general vibe of the place and write a report."

Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, "so… vibe check?"

The words earned him a chuckle, "yeah, you could call it that," with that, Eden tipped his head at the binder in his hands, slipping it open and signaling the other to come forward, "we've been told the local gang formed a new base— okay, well, maybe gang isn't the right word. But as far as we know, the group was created a year ago, and they're already pretty infamous."

Processing the new information, Seonghwa nodded, "do they have any name they go by?"

Eden pursed his lips, staring down at the files in distaste, "they call themselves ATEEZ. Have you heard about them?"

His first instinct was to shake his head, but then he stopped to really think about it. There's a distant memory at the back of his mind of the name being mentioned that one time when he checked the news, but nothing more than that, "...not really."

"Okay. So," Eden flipped the page, his finger trailing over the words before tapping on a blurry photo. If Seonghwa squints, he could almost see someone's silhouette, "this is their leader, at least as far as we know. His name is unknown, the other vigilantes refer to him as their captain. As for his Gift… we speculate that it has to do with creation, or manifesting imagination?" he pauses, tapping the photo once more for emphasis, "materialization."

With that, he turned the next page, "now, Yunho, the Songbird. Sometimes also called the Siren. His Gift is glamour, his voice can put you in a trance, make you sure of something you'd never even consider otherwise, much less believe. His words are laced with, well, we call it _intent_."

Seonghwa stared at the photo at the corner of the file, this time the face of the person in question much more visible. He makes sure to commit it to memory.

Focusing on the bottom of the page, Eden continues, "San, a Mimic. We're not exactly sure how his power works, so I can't tell you how to defend yourself from him, but, well, if everything goes according to plan, you're not even going to meet him, anyway. His Gift is to mimic the power of people around him; we can only guess at what radius."

Flicking the file again, Seonghwa waits as Eden skims through the text, before looking at it himself, "Mingi. The only one who seemingly lacks a Gift. Kleptomaniac, terribly fast and terribly smart when it comes to battle. We've already known of him even before ATEEZ itself was created; they scouted him around two months after. Just try to keep him in your line of vision."

This time, the file that Eden showed him next didn't have a photo of the person in question attached. Seonghwa shot him a confused look but the elders waved it off, "Wooyoung, a shapeshifter. No one knows what his face really looks like. Hell, a lot of the time they fool us by having Wooyoung shift, it's… actually embarrassing how many times our agents fell for it. After all, how are we supposed to recognize someone that keeps changing his own physical features? Who knows, maybe he doesn't even _have_ a face of his own."

At one point Seonghwa thought there's no way he's going to remember all this information, but, well, he's trying.

"Now Jongho, whom may or may not be the youngest. Precognition. Nothing too much, though, from what we've seen so far he only seems to know things seconds, maybe minutes ahead. But it makes surprising him almost impossible, unfortunately."

With a sigh, Eden flips to the last page. Unlike the others, there's only so much written inside the file, "this one… is rarely ever seen. It's been speculated his Gift is invisibility. One of our people heard the others referring to him as Yeosang once, but there's no way for us to confirm it. There's also nothing more I could tell you about him," and with that, he closes the binder and hands it to Seonghwa, who takes it without any comment. He's speechless, too busy trying to wrap his mind around everything the folder included.

It took him a full minute to realize his hands were shaking. Fortunately, Eden didn't seem to notice.

Hoping to come off as confident (which, ironically, he definitely wasn't at the moment), he raised his head, "so… what now? How do I get to their hideout?"

"I'm glad you asked."

skip 37 minutes. ►I

Smoothing down the wrinkles on his dress shirt, Seonghwa slipped inside the considerably small bar, hopefully unnoticed by the vigilantes he's there for. Instead of a suit paired with the tacky mask he's by now grown attached to (despite the ugly design), he's thrown on the most casual outfit he could find, just to blend in.

The binder tucked inside the bag slinging from his shoulder — just in case, because Seonghwa prefers being safe than sorry — wasn't enough to keep his nerves down, though he still desperately tried to keep his cool. This was it, his first solo mission, after all. He couldn't, no, he wasn't going to fuck it up.

The table he sat at was carefully chosen, hypothetical ways to flee well thought through. Not so far away to be surrounded by people, but also not close enough to catch anyone's attention. Despite the questionable location of the bar, the inside was crowded, smelling of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. Seonghwa wrinkled his nose at it.

Bars never really were his thing, even if he did understand why people would like them. The crowd was far from enjoyable, though it made his job easier.

He smiled politely at the barmaid, who copied the expression. Whether naturally nice or just keeping things professional, Seonghwa could only guess.

There's something far more important on his mind, though.

In just a few seconds he forgets the name of the drink he's ordered; he's not planning to get wasted, has to be sober in case anything were to happen, but he does take a few sips and make a face at the taste to make his disguise more believable.

Settling back in his seat, he eyed the bar, letting his gaze move from one stranger to another. With no idea just how long he'll have to sit inside, he couldn't stomp down the faint hope to notice anything off about this place and get it over with as soon as possible.

After a while, he started people watching. Sending curious glances at particularly interesting customers. Two girls seated by the counter, one clearly flirting and trying to win the other over; a (fairly cute?) man chattering up a group that's just stepped inside (maybe he works here...?); a horrifically tall duo sitting in the corner of the room, by two opposite sides of a table (he's not sure whether they're having fun or arguing, even after one of the men collapses in laughter while the other seems on the verge of crying).

Right as he was about to lose all hope, he heard the front door opening again.

And as he turned his head to the side, stealing a glance at the man quickly making his way towards the counterbar, he almost flinched. Almost.

There he was, as if pulled straight out of the files in Seonghwa's bag; Mingi. The only one to have a perfectly clear picture of his face attached. Though he didn't even cast his gaze in Seonghwa's direction, he could feel his anxiety picking up again. He took a long sip of the drink at hand just to calm his nerves.

Fiddling with his bag, he cast a sidelong look towards the man, currently in a heated discussion with the barmaid. Both seem a bit ruffled; a shame, that Seonghwa can't even listen in. Whatever news Mingi must have brought with him, they weren't good for the group.

Deeming Mingi's presence as enough proof, he let his hand inch down, resting the yet-to-be-finished drink on the table. Staying inside for too long would be too risky, he'd attract attention to himself, so as casually as he possibly could, he raised from the seat and sauntered towards the exit.

So deep in his own erratic thoughts, while he passed the doorway he stumbled right into a person entering the bar. Stunned, he raised his head and just as he was about to apologize, the time slowed down — literally. Out of surprise of seeing yet another face he recognized.

Something, an emotion Seonghwa couldn't put his finger on, flickered through San's eyes, but then the man smiled, a gesture so small his lips barely tilted up, "sorry," and just like that, their surroundings returned to motion.

Only later, after he's already long left the building, did Seonghea realize why the single word left him so unsettled — San. The Mimic. Who hadn't stopped in time much alike Seonghwa.

He _knows_.

(For a reason unknown to his own self, Seonghwa didn't inform Eden of this particular fact.)

next. ►I

Consequently, after having proved the bar to be somewhat of a hideout of the infamous vigilantes, it's been passed on to Seonghwa as his own case. Not that Seonghwa would be seen as a hero in any way, no. He's nothing more than a sidekick. Seonghwa guessed it was Eden's way of seeing how well he'd work on his own, or something. At least he hoped so.

Of course, he's always known becoming a hero wouldn't be an easy feat, a thing you could do in just a week, a few months even, but years — still, something about the way some of the heroes treated him made Seonghwa feel as if they're belittling him.

Another three months passed without Seonghwa ever seeing an actual villain with his own two eyes and it's not like he didn't trust his higher ups, but… it just didn't add up.

At the back of his mind, a hushed voice would whisper to Seonghwa of how he's being led on, and the fact alone only made him feel guilty. Why was he so suspicious?

Kids younger than him had more first hand experience around villains than Seonghwa himself, for crying out loud. Sidekicks, just like him. Donghyuck and Mark, whom Seonghwa never even met, Sanha, clumsy yet talented enough for multiple heroes to take him under their wing, Ryujin, Jeongin, Yerim… he's lost count of all the "more promising" sidekicks, who've discovered their Gifts years earlier than Seonghwa himself did.

He's talked about this, once, with Soyeon. They'd occasionally meet while handing in their own reports, and despite not knowing each other very well, built some kind of a friendship, if it could be called one. At least Seonghwa was more familiar with her than most of the other sidekicks his age.

"What's holding them back?" was the first thing Soyeon said to him that day, omitting a greeting. Seonghwa wasn't sure why it was, but she seemed… off.

"What do you mean?"

She didn't meet his eye, didn't do much else than shrug. Instead of explaining what's on her mind, she parted her lips, then closed them, opened them again, "I just feel like… it's all on purpose. I don't know. Maybe they just don't want us to succeed. You know, be heroes, independent and all."

Seonghwa stopped in his tracks. There's a funny sensation, as if his heart's been clenched by an invisible hand inside his chest, "...they?"

Soyeon didn't reply.

He hasn't seen her around ever since.

(If a new vigilante calling herself Lioness emerged weeks after, somehow familiar despite the mask covering her face, Seonghwa didn't dare think about it too much.)

next. ►I

Bittersweet. How even his own case doesn't let him meet the vigilantes in question, having to stand back and observe their actions from a distance. Silently patrol, send in reports and don't withhold any information. Ha. As if he'd stoop so low on his own. The fact that someone of higher rank would even think of him so lowly actually made him more inclined to do so than if no one ever mentioned this rule.

(He's not sure when he's grown so petty. He's never been one to act bitter, so why?)

At least watching his assignments is entertaining. Objectively speaking.

The files made them sound so much worse than what's Seonghwa observed so far. No wonder _this_ is the only solo mission he's been allowed — an easy case, no actual danger unless attacked first or the group set their eyes on a particular price. Seonghwa's never witnessed either of them kill, or mess with a simple civilian, even going out of their way not to harm any. The kind to rob a rich man then turn around and rescue a cat stuck in a high place. If Seonghwa let his guard down a little, he'd even catch himself pitying the men for their bad reputation.

No. Stop. Hold that thought. Seonghwa shouldn't feel bad for vigilantes. He's a sidekick, on his way to maybe one day becoming a hero — the closest word to describe their relationship would be enemies. But why doesn't if feel right?

"Eden," he said as his earpiece came to life, the older's hum all the response he got. He went on anyway, "they're silent. It's weird. I haven't seen even one of them in hours," there's a sound next to him, similar to the crunch of a leaf someone's stepped on, yet not a person in sight. He glanced around, but shrugged it off, "actually, now that I think about it, the last time I've seen anyone was yesterday, the Songbird and the Mimic."

(At one point of his observation, San turned his head right in Seonghwa's direction, a smile appearing on his lips. Seonghwa stood still in the shadows until San looked away, but left it out of his next report once more.)

Now, carefully sat on the rooftop of the nearby house, he glared at the entrance of the bar. At this point, he was almost sure the tall building wasn't just the establishment, the higher floors serving as their hideout. Smart. The usuals at the bar have no idea just who inhabits the space above.

"Should I… sneak in? Check if they're even inside?"

Eden made a sound, as if contemplating. A muffled shuffle, the hero clearing his throat, and Seonghwa could hear the hesitance in his voice as he replied, "go ahead. Be careful though."

Biting back a snarky reply, he rolled his neck, stretching his muscles. The line went dead and he cracked his knuckles, before finally rising from his previous bent position, taking a few steps back before leaping towards the fire escape of the neighbouring building. The landing wasn't pretty, and he could hear it cry under his weight, but at least he managed to reach it with his jump. Would be unfortunate if he didn't.

Shuddering at the thought, he stood up again, glancing inside through the partially open window. As far as he could see, the room seemed empty, though the fact only confused him even further. It only took a minute of weighing his options until he pushed the glass back. Wide open like that, Seonghwa was pretty sure he could easily slip inside. Huh. He's really going to do it.

Why was he hesitating? Why was he so nervous? He's trained enough for this, they weren't even actual villains. But how would they react if anyone spotted him? Seonghwa shivered, and not at all due to the cold air.

He glanced back, taking note of the weird feeling of being watched, and with that, he heaved his legs over the windowsill.

What he didn't expect to happen as he landed silently on his feet, was to meet someone's gaze almost immediately.

A guy, probably around Seonghwa's age, sat on the couch backed up to the exact same wall the window's built in. Of course. The one corner Seonghwa couldn't see from the outside, right out of his line of sight. How lucky.

Except whatever Seonghwa expected a vigilante to look like, this wasn't it.

The boy's clad in a pair of pajamas, sitting comfortably tucked inside a blanket. His hair in a slightly disheveled state, as if fresh from a nap — but isn't it too late for one? He could've just gone straight to sleep at this hour — and a cup of, well, something, it's not like Seonghwa could see it, cradled in his hands. If Seonghwa had to describe him with one word, it would've been _comfortable_.

Was Seonghwa even in the right place? Shit, did he accidentally break into someone's apartment?

No, but he's so sure he got it right. If he concentrates enough, he even had a feeling he's seen the boy before. Maybe at the bar?

The guy cleared his throat, "you could've just walked in instead, you know. Doors exist for a reason."

All Seonghwa could do was stare back in stunned silence.

He watched as the other brought the cup up to his lips, taking a sip while still holding eye contact. There's a ghost of a smile when he put it back down into his lap, "I've seen you before. You're like, what, a hero?"

It's what finally yanks Seonghwa from his erratic thoughts, and he flinched, quick to correct the… stranger, "no, no, just a sidekick. I could only wish to be one."

The other hummed, a rather thoughtful sound. He looked Seonghwa up and down, and he just knew the boy was holding back a comment about Seonghwa's identity. Did he see Seonghwa as less of a threat now? Did he even see him as one in the first place? If he even was a part of the group. Which Seonghwa still wasn't sure of.

Wordlessly the boy wiggled his shoulders, letting the blanket slip down onto the couch. He placed the cup on the nearby table before standing up. Before, he did look a bit… petite, but now that he's actually upright, Seonghwa realized how short the guy is. Nothing about him screamed danger, and despite himself, Seonghwa just couldn't bring himself to keep suspecting him.

"Okay, I get that you're here to like, infiltrate our base or something, but, like," the boy drifter off, taking a few steps closer before looking up at Seonghwa with the most innocent expression he's ever seen, "I don't feel like fighting anyone today. Do you want something to drink instead? Coffee, tea?"

Blink. One, two. Seonghwa even closed his eyes one more time, waiting for it all to turn out to be a hallucination and disappear right in front of eyes, but the image of the stranger looking up at him patiently stayed in place, and, well. What was he supposed to do? Say no?

"S-sure… Tea sounds nice."

The responding smile shouldn't spread warmth through Seonghwa's chest the way it did.

Following the boy out of the room, he can't help but notice every minor detail about his surroundings. The faint laughter coming from a room down the hall, the dim light covering the surprisingly cozy interior, the additional sound of footsteps following after them… wait. So that's why Seonghwa felt watched the entire time. Christ.

Trying not to look back and make it clear he's aware of the vigilante's invisible presence, he scurries closer to the boy leading him, "so… what's your name? I don't know what to call you."

The other glances at him over his shoulder as he stills, tipping the door in front of them open with his foot, "Hongjoong. And yours?"

The name… well, Seonghwa doesn't recognize it from the file, nor has he ever heard it mentioned while discussing the infamous group. So he was right. Either the boy before him wasn't even a part of it, or he just doesn't play a big role in it. Otherwise he'd already be recorded, right? Unless he lied, though for some reason, Seonghwa got a feeling Hongjoong was telling the truth.

Just as he was about to respond with a fake alias, he bit his tongue, stopping himself in time. Why did the mere idea made him feel so guilty?

In the end, he just murmured, "...Seonghwa."

Though his voice had been small, Hongjoong seemed to hear it nonetheless, and he smiled at Seonghwa once more before entering the kitchen.

Seonghwa hesitantly followed, then stopped in his tracks when he noticed the few vigilantes already inside. He could feel his heart dropping. Was this a trap? Were they going to lock him up somewhere in this building? Beat him up for trying to sneak inside?

But the trio only spared him a glance, the Mimic shooting him a grin before turning back to his cards. He slapped one onto the table with a satisfied shout and the groan that followed could've only belonged to the Songbird. Seonghwa… wasn't sure what to make of this.

Turning his gaze to the last vigilante sitting by the table, he almost flinched when his eyes met Mingi's stare, clearly curious. Why did he feel like prey, observed by a predator?

"So you're the one that's been spying on us lately."

It's not a question. Seonghwa knew it wasn't. Even if it was, how was he supposed to reply to that? _Yes, you're an interesting bunch_? Hell no.

So he just looked away, unable to do much else.

A sound not unlike a purr followed, before Mingi spoke up again, "nice mask. Though it's kinda tacky. Did you make it yourself?"

Raising his head so fast his vision swam in black, he brought a palm up to his face, panic floodic his lungs when all he could feel was his own skin. He turned to face Mingi again, startling at the sight of the vigilante holding his mask like a winning prize, and when did he even had the time to steal it from Seonghwa in the first place? Mingi doesn't even _have_ a Gift — time manipulation is Seonghwa's power, for crying out loud.

"No, I didn't even get to choose—," before he could finish the sentence, Mingi shrugged and threw the mask back at Seonghwa, who struggled to catch it and slipped it back on. As soon as his face was (partly) hidden again, some of his nerves soothed down.

"Stop scaring the newbies, Mingi," the Songbird — Yunho, was it? — murmured, gaze glued to the cards in his hands. San made some agreeing sound, not really committing to the conversation at hand either, and Seonghwa? He just felt as if he's witnessing a sight not meant for him. It almost seems as if they're _tolerating_ him. Him, a sidekick to a hero. They should be considered enemies, so why were they acting so… friendly? For the lack of a better word?

"Your tea," Hongjoong chimes in, so close to Seonghwa that his hand flies up to his chest, trying to calm its hurried rhythm. He's almost even forgotten about Hongjoong's presence, didn't even notice how he managed to make the drink in such a short time either. What is it with these vigilantes and catching Seonghwa off-guard?

He thanked Hongjoong with a nod, joining the trio by the table after a few moments after Hongjoong did. Neither of them commented on it.

They didn't talk. At least, Seonghwa didn't, and it didn't seem like they expected him to either. They spoke about this and that, not directly bringing up his presence even once, but kept the conversation open in case he wanted to chime in. Not feeling up to it, he decided to watch them play instead, sipping the tea every now and then. Sometime during their second rematch Seonghwa noticed another person sitting on his left, assuming it to be Yeosang, the one who's followed after them before, but didn't speak up even then, nor for the rest of the evening.

An hour and a half later, as he left the building, he still had no idea what all of that was supposed to mean.

next. ►I

One of the things Seonghwa despised the most about being just a hero's sidekick was being sent to fix someone else's fucked up mission.

Like. Come on. This isn't the mess he made, most of these cases are cleaning up a crime scene or rescuing a few civilians anyway. Anyone could do that. Shouldn't be of help to heroes, not cops? If he wanted to deal with the easiest stuff he wouldn't bother training with Eden this entire time, yet this is the kind of missions he still gets sent to despite having been a sidekick for months.

Though, well. Maybe this time he could see the point. It being, an entire shopping centre set on fire.

This is on a whole another scale than what he's used to.

He's not sure what lead to the situation, didn't really bother listening before he was already out the door. The only words he registered was villain and accident. But was it really, an accident? Looking at the entire building in flames, Seonghwa couldn't even bring himself to believe this wasn't planned.

At least his power proved to be useful this time, but only in a way. He couldn't stop the flames, could only rescue one civilian at the time while Jimin, a water Elemental, tried her best to douse the fire and Sorn flickered in and out of existence, taking groups of people with her. Seonghwa knew other sidekicks and even heroes alike were on their way as well, but what if they came too late?

With that in mind, he didn't even realize he's sauntered too deep inside the burning building until it was too late. On the top floor, where Seonghwa could swear the fire hasn't been as immense just two minutes ago, yet now he found himself struggling to breathe through the smoke. This was the first time he's overworked himself, using his power so often in such little time, and he felt its effect horrifically well. Dragging his legs, he clutched his temples, looking for an out, but the flames blocked every exit. He was trapped inside. Time manipulation, as helpful as it usually was, this time proved to be useless.

He glanced up towards the glass ceiling. If only he had a way of breaking it and escaping through it— but there's nothing he could climb on, no way to heave himself up. Was he… going to die here?

Just as the thought skimmed through his mind, the sound of shattering glass filled his ears and only on instinct did he cover his face, curling in on himself to avoid getting cut. There's a shout, a question, maybe, it's all too loud for Seonghwa to decipher any words, but it did make him raise his head again, squinting through the smoke at the person leaning down from the rooftop, clearly trying to catch his attention.

His heart skips, an emotion not unlike relief but so much stronger filling his chest, and even though his eyes sting, he tries to make out the person the best as he could, rising up from his previously crouched position.

The silhouette extended a gloved hand and without much thought, Seonghwa reached out and let the other pull him up.

Here, his memory got mostly foggy. He remembered the person questioning whether he was alright, but he couldn't recall his answer; wasn't even sure he gave one. All he knew was the way his shoulders shook, his cheeks wet but not from sweat. He closed his eyes, coughing in hopes of getting all the inhaled smoke out of his lungs. A horrible taste lingered in his mouth, and he was faintly aware of the person lifting him up, taking careful steps towards the edge of the roof but Seonghwa couldn't care less, all he wanted was for everything to stop.

And so it did.

Watching the flames pause from the corner of his eye wasn't as amazing as it was the first few times he used his powers. By now, it was more tiring than anything. At least his anonymous savior didn't halt their pace, due only to their physical contact, and Seonghwa didn't even have the energy to question it when steps seemed to materialize in front of them, leading a slow path towards the ground. He only gripped tighter onto the person's jacket.

In the middle of him zoning out and trying to come to terms with what happened, he lifted his gaze to the stranger's face, a realization unhurriedly dawning on him. He recognizes this man. The person said to have a Gift related to materialization. The leader of the infamous vigilante group going by the name of ATEEZ.

Hongjoong.

After that, Seonghwa blacked out.

next. ►I

Only two days later did he meet Eden again, two entire days spent inside his own room, nothing to keep him from overthinking. Leaving the house actually helped him feel better, in a way.

It's back at their shared base that Seonghwa went back to feeling sick again. He's not even sure why, but sitting in a familiar rolling chair and looking up at Eden again made him somewhat... anxious. It's like his stomach was a sentient thing, suddenly seeming it the perfect time to practice flips and if not for the fact that he hasn't even eaten breakfast yet, he'd probably end up throwing up.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing Eden asked him. Instead of any verbal reply, Seonghwa just nodded.

"What happened? Seungyeon told me they found you already unconscious," Eden's gaze was anything but what Seonghwa expected; concerned. For some reason, it only made him feel worse.

"I don't know, I just," he trailed off, avoiding the other's eyes. This didn't feel right, something way bigger was going on than what Eden's letting him know, he's sure of it now. But seeing his mentor like this brings up his doubts, "I acted stupid and went too deep inside. I don't remember much else."

He could hear Eden sigh, the older shifting his weight from one leg to another, clearly not entirely convinced, "are you sure? Nothing more than that?"

The sight of a silhouette surrounded by smoke resurfaced in his mind, Hongjoong's face, the way he hoisted Seonghwa up, somehow in the right place at the right time. Why did he even help Seonghwa in the first place?

His lips twisted, "yes. Nothing more than that."

When, exactly, has he stopped trusting Eden?

next. ►I

He goes under the radar for a while. A week passed in just a blink, until Eden finally messaged him to come to their hideout again. To continue on his case, his solo mission. To explain his suddenly distant behavior. He didn't even have an explanation.

So came back, though he made sure to keep any interactions with other sidekicks and heroes at the minimum, short much alike his reports. He didn't even bother acting subtle anymore; the vigilantes he's supposed to keep an eye on know damn well about his presence and don't even try to hide the fact either.

Standing in front of the bar leading to ATEEZ's hideout, he contemplated his choices. He fixed the collar of his shirt, tucking his hands into the pockets of his jeans with a huff. There's no point in hiding, so with that in mind, he strolled inside the bar, only stopping at the countertop, where he took a seat only after shooting a smile to the barmaid he recognized from before. This time, the responding grin seemed much more genuine.

At her questioning stare, he said, "just some water, please."

Settling in more comfortably, he let his shoulders relax, finally losing the tension that followed him the entire day. He couldn't think of a bigger irony; feeling unsafe at his own base but letting his guard down at a vigilante's hideout.

Chugging down almost half of the cup in one go after it's handed to him, he wondered if anyone was going to show up today. Sure, the relationship between Seonghwa and the group couldn't possibly be described with a single word at the moment, but Seonghwa wasn't sure if the vigilantes would even act friendly towards him. Though, there was only one way to find out; so here he was, taking his time on drinking the rest of the water and waiting to be noticed.

It didn't take too long until he heard a shuffle from his side, someone slipping into the seat next to his. When Seonghwa looked up, it was with a small smile on his lips.

"So, you're here to spy on us again?" Hongjoong asked in such a casual way, strongly contrasting his words, but Seonghwa saw the way his eyes crinkled up and this fact made him sure the other was just teasing.

Though, he could only shrug in reply. It's not like he was exactly spying anymore; both of them knew well enough he wasn't going to include this in his report anyway.

"Not sure yet," he finally replies, letting his gaze fall down to the counter. There was no drink standing in front of Hongjoong, but the man made no move to order anything, not that Seonghwa even expected him to. Instead, he felt the other's finger gaze his hand before he grasped Seonghwa's cup of water, bringing it to his own lips as if he owned it. But then, didn't he? This entire bar might have been run by ATEEZ and no one would even know.

"Thank you, by the way."

Stopping mid-swallow, Hongjoong turned to glance at him curiously, seemingly prompting for an explanation as to why Seonghwa's suddenly thanking him. If the circumstances were any different, Seonghwa might have thought the other looks cute like this.

"For saving me, I mean," he added, and Hongjoong's eyes lit in understanding.

Seonghwa watched as he put the cup back down, the quiet _thump_ lost in the chatter of the bar, "it's really nothing."

"It really isn't, though," he argued, waiting for Hongjoong to meet his gaze until he continued, "seriously, thank you. I mean it."

An indescribable emotion flickered through Hongjoong's eyes, but before he could reply, a hand landed right on his shoulder, interrupting their conversation. Seonghwa turned his head, glancing at the two newcomers; both of them Seonghwa hasn't met before, so he guessed they must be the last two members of the group. The one closer to Seonghwa tilted his head, and Hongjoong immediately caught on whatever that was supposed to mean, "oh, yeah. Okay," then, he looked at Seonghwa again, smiling apologetically, "I have to go now. Have fun, though."

It is with that and a wink thrown over his shoulder that he disappeared, leaving Seonghwa to mope alone by the counter again.

next. ►I

Seonghwa's never been one to dream vividly. Most of his nights he's spent either sleepless or dreaming of nothing, apart from an occasional nightmare.

Tonight was one of those. Confusing dreams leading to waking up in cold sweat, something Seonghwa's only experienced a few times before; yet now, every time he went back to sleep, the dreams only continued from where they stopped.

Dreams of heroes, of childish aspirations, of the first few months of training to be a sidekick. Nightmares of people he used to know turning out to be strangers, of terrifyingly familiar villains and situations once seen as impossible now happening. Names of sidekicks he's heard in passing, seen with his own two eyes before they never showed up again.

Then, a nightmare featuring a burning building and the inability to breathe.

Seonghwa's heart beat a mile a minute in his chest as he struggled to see his surroundings, the smoke heavy in his lungs, mixing with anxiety and unease pooled in his chest.

Until everything went blurry, and the next time Seonghwa opened his eyes all he could see was a dark room, empty of anything except a person standing by the only source of light, their back facing him.

He parted his lips, but no sound came out.

Hopeless.

The silhouette turned around, the lighting so dim Seonghwa couldn't see past the smile on their lips, then proceeded to speak in a scarily familiar voice.

"They're scared of your power, little one."

Then Seonghwa woke up, Hongjoong's name on the tip of his tongue. In defiance of the early hour, he didn't go back to sleep this time.

The next day, he decided to finally confront Eden.

fast forward. ►►

And now he's sitting alone in the awfully familiar bar, pondering over his future as a civilian. It's not a life he can go back to, not just like that. He's spent the last two years training to be a hero, it's not something he can just repress and forget. He was never meant to live so simply, he's too drawn towards danger to possibly try and start that kind of a calm lifestyle again.

But then, he can't return to being a hero. Well, a sidekick, really. Not after what happened with Eden.

Betrayal. The word tastes bitter on his tongue. It's not something he ever thought he's going to experience.

The corner of his lips tilts up at the thought, void of any humour. His own naivety lead to his fall. How ironic. He fits inside the pitiful crowd of the bar just perfectly.

Footsteps, low, steady. They stop right behind Seonghwa. His head feels heavy, how much time has he spent inside if he's already tipsy? He doesn't want to dwell on it. Instead, he turns around in his seat and faces San, who's looking down at him with something akin to amusement. If his sorry state could amuse anyone, in any way.

"I see you've come around," the Mimic says. Yeah, Seonghwa thinks, that's right. San's right. Maybe this is it.

Maybe Seonghwa was never meant to be a hero. Maybe the right place for him is here. Maybe Seonghwa's been searching for the wrong thing this entire time.

He smiles up at the other.

"Yeah," he says, tipping his head to the side. San's grin widens, "yeah, I think I did."

pause. ◼

**Author's Note:**

> what do y'all think so far??  
feel free to hmu on my [twitter](https://twitter.com/ddonibell)!!


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